Whatever You Say

by Leigh Fleming

  For the next few minutes, he looked through the photo album, pointing out all the places he recognized as well as a few familiar faces. She watched his expression as he gave a history of Highland Springs through the photos in the album. She could see his pride in his hometown and warmed at the thought that she was now frequenting the same places her parents did when they were young.

  “Oh, wow, is that a Chevelle?” He pointed to a picture of her dad’s old car outside a drive-up ice cream stand. Her father was leaning against the car with his arm around her mom. They looked so young, so innocent, so happy. The picture must have been taken shortly before he left for the Navy because her mother was obviously pregnant.

  “Yep, he got a seventy-two Chevelle in high school. I can still remember him working on it on the weekends when I was a little girl.”

  “Where is it now?”

  “My mom sold it, I’m sure. I don’t remember seeing it again after he died.” She noticed Brody draw closer to the photo as realization dawned on his face. “Yep, that’s me in there. The love child of Johnny and Tammy McNamara.”

  “Nothing wrong with that.” He smiled and saluted her with his coffee mug.

  “There’s a lot of wrong with that. My dad had to join the Navy, couldn’t go to college. My mom didn’t go back to school until after he died.”

  “It’s not the most ideal way to start adult life, but they got you in the bargain.”

  “Oh, and what a bargain.” They tinged their mugs together and shared a laugh. “Seriously, I have to say my mom and dad are really amazing people, considering.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “My dad was an incredible athlete, decorated sailor, and my mom—well, my mom has achieved so much with her career since my dad passed. I really admire her—how hard she works.” She picked up a photo from her parents’ high school graduation and traced a finger across the image as if she were feeling their presence. “I often wonder what their lives would’ve been like if it weren’t for me.”

  “Surely, you’re not blaming yourself.”

  “No.” She placed the photo on the table and looked up at Brody, blinking away the watery sheen from her eyes. “But, I can’t help wondering.” She gathered the scattered photos into a neat pile, tapping them into alignment against the table.

  “What pictures are in these albums?” He opened a pale pink baby book and for the next hour they walked through Kate’s life, beginning with her birth through college graduation. She had just finished telling him about her Valedictorian speech when she received a text from the office. She read through it quickly and jumped to her feet.

  “Out!” She fairly lifted him out of his chair and shoved him toward the front door. “I have work to do. My memo is due by four o’clock and you’re distracting me.”

  “Hey, you were the one who offered me a cup of coffee.”

  “I know, but you’ve got to go.”

  He opened the door and but stayed planted inside the foyer.

  “Are you going?” She asked as she pressed her hands against his back.

  “Let’s go to the ice cream stand sometime—the one in the picture.”

  “Sure, sure. But not today.” She gave him another hard push and he finally submitted, stepping onto the porch, avoiding the bloody spot.

  “We also have a date to plan, remember?”

  “Brody, you’re stalling. Gram’s paying you by the hour and you’ve wasted the last hour drinking coffee in her kitchen.”

  He gripped the doorway and leaned in to within inches of Kate. “I’ll be sure to take it off my bill. Thanks for the Band-Aid and coffee.” Before she could reply, he dropped a soft kiss on her lips and walked down the porch steps. She silently cursed under her breath. How could she concentrate on work after that?

  SEVENTEEN

  “You know, Kate, you can’t allow yourself to be distracted. You’ve worked too hard and invested too much of yourself for your career to falter. Imagine what your dad—”

  “Dad would want me to be here for Gram.”

  “I know that and it’s very admirable, but you need to get back to DC and get back on track. You deserve that promotion, but you can’t ease up now. As soon as Gram’s home, you need to get back there.”

  Kate’s mother had called as soon as she’d pulled into her grandmother’s driveway after spending the evening at the rehab center. It had been several days since she’d visited, but Gram never complained. Her mother was in the midst of a lecture about getting out of that “Podunk” town when Kate climbed the porch steps, noticing a light stain from Brody’s bloody puddle. She smiled at the memory from that day. Somehow, she had been able to finish her memo in time even with memories of Brody’s gentle kiss invading her every other thought.

  “Mom, I agree with you completely. You know how much I value my career and I promise not to disappoint you, but I’ve got to go.”

  She cleared space on the kitchen table for her laptop and opened her email account. There were several emails sent from the office in the two hours she was at the rehab center, and she sighed heavily, knowing it was going to be a long night of work.

  Wednesday morning, Kate tucked herself into the corner table at Sit and Sip which she had internally dubbed “her table” and flipped open her laptop. She left the house early to avoid Brody. She didn’t want to be distracted by his nail gun or power drill or Brody himself. There was a brief due by Friday and Patrick was expecting her testimony review by the beginning of next week. They’d won the trial, but were now in full appeal preparation mode. When she told Patrick she wouldn’t be able to attend the trial, she could hear the disappointment in his voice, even though he said he understood. So far, she was miraculously keeping up with her work and hadn’t missed a deadline, but she hadn’t offered to go above and beyond like she would have a few weeks ago.

  She had lost track of time as she tapped away on her computer keyboard, oblivious to everyone around her, having emptied her paper coffee cup long ago. She considered getting another one when suddenly her laptop snapped shut, nearly crushing her fingers.

  “There you are. Been looking all over for you.”

  She tugged her earphones from her ears and looked up at Brody, smiling broadly under his ball cap, looking quite pleased with himself. If he wasn’t so damned handsome and boyishly adorable, she would be mad at him for interrupting her flow.

  “Can I help you, Mr. Fisk? I’m working here, if you didn’t notice.” She smiled back at him, joining in his playful mood.

  “Yes, you can. You can come with me.” He pulled the plug on her laptop and stuffed it into her leather satchel sitting on the floor. “Let’s go.” She didn’t have a chance to protest. He grasped her arm with one hand and pulled her out of the chair while carrying her bag in the other, and guided her out of the coffee shop.

  “Where are you taking me?” Brody knew he was practically dragging her down the street, but he was so excited. He wrapped his arm around Kate’s waist as she stumbled, trying to keep up. Ever since he’d seen the picture of her dad and mom outside the ice cream stand, leaning against the Chevelle, he’d wanted to recreate that scene for her.

  “We’re going for ice cream.” He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and pointed to a long convertible parked by the curb. “Hop in.”

  “Ah.” She stopped and drew in a quick breath. “Are you kidding me?” She covered her mouth with her hands and then rushed to the car. “Is this yours?” She turned to him, her eyes filled with wonder, and a beautiful, shining smile. In all the time he’d known her, he couldn’t remember her looking this happy.

  “It’s mine.”

  “It’s beautiful. Oh my gosh.”

  “You like it?”

  “Like it? It’s a gorgeous car. It’s a Cadillac, um—” She walked toward the back of the car, searching for the model.

  “It’s a seventy-five El Dorado.”

  “Yes, that’s what I thought.”

  “You know about classic cars?”
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br />   “Of course.” She strolled around the car, dragging her hand across the body, admiring the pale blue paint job and chrome. “My dad loved vintage cars. Remember, you saw his seventy-two Chevelle?” She stopped in the front and bent down to study the grill. “I guess because of him I learned a lot about them, which is funny considering I don’t even own a car.” She stood back up, placed her hands on her hips, and looked at him, her eyes sparkling. “It’s in mint condition. I love it. Where’d you get it?”

  “It was the first thing I bought after I got the first big check from my publisher. It belonged to a friend of Elvis Presley. He used to—”

  “Give cars to his friends and family. I know.” Kate walked over to where he was planted on the sidewalk and slipped her arms around his waist. “Take me for a ride.” At that moment, he would have done anything she asked.

  “Exactly what I had in mind.” He cupped her face in his hands. “If you behave, I’ll even let you drive.”

  “Deal.” She touched her nose to his. “Let’s go,” she whispered.

  Brody slid his hand through her hair and palmed the back of her head, bringing her in for an overdue kiss. He felt that familiar bass drum beating down in his chest as she snuggled tight against him and spread her hands over his back. He could kiss her all day long and never get tired of it. Beauty, brains, and she liked classic cars…he’d better be careful.

  Even with the rough pavement and occasional potholes, Kate felt like she was floating on a cloud. The El Dorado drove like a motor boat gliding across a glassy lake and its captain looked incredibly handsome behind the wheel. She couldn’t believe she allowed him to steal her away from her work, but damn it, she deserved a little fun. Tonight she’d work until midnight or beyond, whatever it took. Taking this ride with Brody was all part of their deal—she had to help him with song material, after all.

  The Cadillac rolled to a smooth stop at an intersection and he put it into park. They were on a two-lane road out in the country and hadn’t passed another car for at least a mile. He turned and looked at her, draping his arm across the steering wheel.

  “Are you warm enough? I can put up the top if you’re cold.”

  “No, I’m fine.” It was a warm day by early winter standards. They were driving with the top down, the windows up, and the heater blasting. The sun was shining down and the sky was crystal clear. She drew in a lungful of fresh air, noticing the only sound was the soft purr of the idling engine. At that moment she felt a pang of nostalgia just thinking about leaving here and returning to traffic noise, city smells, and the ever-ticking clock.

  He must have read her mind. He picked up her hand, pressed his lips against her palm, and said, “Nice day huh?”

  “Perfect.”

  They rode on through the countryside with him telling her stories about his childhood, pointing out landmarks along the way. Twenty minutes later, they pulled into an asphalt lot in front of an ice cream stand—the same one in the picture—that looked like it would have been right at home in a 1950s movie. It was probably the era in which it had been built and had never seen an update.

  “Here we are.” Brody walked around to her side of the car and helped her out, not letting go of her hand as they walked to the window.

  “The same place as in the picture.”

  “And it probably has the same menu.”

  “We should take a selfie in front of your car.”

  “Better yet, let’s get someone to take our picture. Pose just like your parents did.”

  She squeezed his hand and smiled up at him while he looked down at her. When had it happened? When did she drop her guard, let him in? Was it in the Brass Rail parking lot the night of their charade for Jonas’s benefit? Was it in the storage room? At the auction? Thanksgiving dinner? All at once it felt like she’d known him forever, like they were meant to be together. This moment at the ice cream stand, the same one her parents frequented, had been destined to be. Dropping all her past attempts to keep a wall up between them, to shut off her feelings, she tilted her face towards his, inviting another tender kiss, ignoring the nagging worry in her gut.

  After stuffing themselves on chili dogs, French fries, and banana splits, they were relaxing in the front seat of his car—the only one in the parking lot. Brody draped his arm over the seat back, laid his hand on Kate’s shoulder, and then brushed her cheek with the back of his hand.

  “You know, we haven’t made plans for our auction date yet.”

  “Hmm, what did you have in mind?” She scooted across the bench seat and tucked herself under his arm. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him, resting her back against his chest. It felt so good to have her in his arms, completely relaxed, like she belonged there. He could get used to this.

  “Of course, I have to give you the perfect date—drinks and dinner. I just haven’t decided where.”

  “I’m easy to please.”

  He laughed and nuzzled her neck. “I seriously doubt that.”

  “I am.” She sat up in protest and turned to face him. “Really, I told you before. I don’t need a lot of fanfare. Keep it simple.”

  “Nope. I’m hedging my bets you’re a champagne and caviar girl who’s just trying to come off as a beer and peanuts type. I’m not buying it.”

  “Fine.” She resumed her position, reclined against his chest. “It’s your money.”

  An hour later, they headed back toward Highland Springs, taking the long way home on unlined back roads. Brody had indeed let Kate drive and he was now relaxing in the passenger’s seat watching her long, dark hair blow in the cold breeze. They’d avoided talking about her work or his songwriting until she asked.

  “What were you doing the night I came over to your house? I’ve been meaning to ask.”

  “I was just sitting at my computer.”

  “Writing music? Is that how you do it?”

  How could he explain how he wrote music? It had been so long since he’d written on his own and he was just starting to find his way. He’d finally rediscovered the thrill of a new song and he knew it was all because of her.

  “Lately, yeah.”

  She drew in a quick breath and flashed him a dazzling smile. “So you have been writing again. I’m so glad. When do I get to hear something?”

  “Settle down, missy. I’m just getting back to it.” The car swerved and she snapped her attention back to the task at hand. “Keep your eyes on the road.” He laughed and angled across the bench seat, dropping a quick kiss on her cheek.

  “But you’ve been composing, right? You’re too talented not to.”

  “Yeah, and when I have something worth sharing, you’ll be the first to hear it.” Things had changed with Kate today. She was relaxed, happy, didn’t push him away when he held her hand or gave her a kiss. If only he could figure out why? He’d come to rely on her resistance, making it easier for him to keep his hopes under wraps. Now that she seemed to enjoy his touch, even invite it, he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from falling.

  Kate rolled the Caddy into her grandmother’s driveway alongside the Buick and cut the engine. She had a lascivious smile on her face as she massaged the steering wheel.

  “I love this car,” she fairly cooed. Seeing her behind the wheel of his favorite ride, her cheeks pink from the cold afternoon air, looking so gorgeous, he couldn’t stop himself. He scooted across the seat and tugged her legs around, flattening her on the bench seat with a hearty pull.

  She giggled as he eased his body on top of hers and placed a long, gut-twisting kiss on her irresistible lips. He stifled a moan as she reached inside his jacket and under his sweater, where she warmed her hands up and down his back. She felt so good, so right, in his arms. He kept her lips locked against his as he unbuttoned the front of her coat. He’d reached the last button when a muffled ringtone came from inside the glove compartment.

  “That’s my phone. I have a text.” She spoke against his mouth.

  “Ignore it.
” He slipped his tongue inside and greedily kissed her luscious mouth. She responded in kind, seeming to ignore the text, at least until the phone began to ring.

  “Brody.” She tore her lips away and pushed against his chest. “I have to answer that. It might be Gram calling.”

  If she had said “It might be work,” he wouldn’t have let her up. But since it could be the rehab center calling, he acquiesced and sat up, reaching inside the glove compartment for their phones. When they had been a mile outside town on their way to the ice cream stand, they had agreed to lock the devices away for the afternoon. They’d had four blissful hours of uninterrupted time together. Now the real world had come calling again.

  He scrolled through a few texts, not paying attention to Kate as she answered the call. She was apparently talking to someone at the office and blurted out, “What? When was it due?” He looked over and saw a dark shadow come over her face. Just that quickly, the happy, carefree girl he’d spent the afternoon with was gone and the stressed-out professional woman was back.

  “I’m sure that wasn’t what I was told.” Kate climbed out of the car and slammed the door behind her. She reached into the backseat, snatched up her satchel, and marched toward the house.

  He climbed out of the car and stepped onto the porch, meeting the front door as it slammed in his face. Not sure if he really wanted to go inside, Brody hesitantly opened the door and stood inside the foyer. She was still on the phone, rifling through a stack of papers on the kitchen table.

  “Patrick, Jason did not tell me the filing was due this afternoon. I promise you.” She yanked her laptop out of her leather bag and plopped it on the table, still combing through documents as if she had an extra set of hands. “Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll handle it.” She fired up her laptop and then stopped, standing ramrod straight. “Oh, Jason did email me. Patrick, I’m so sorry. What can I do?”